


one kiss, you paid the price, you had a taste of paradise

by railonsakq



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Background Het, Brother/Brother Incest, Incest, M/M, Original Character(s), Romance, Sibling Incest, Twincest, bad english sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 13:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16198145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/railonsakq/pseuds/railonsakq
Summary: osamu likes a girl.





	one kiss, you paid the price, you had a taste of paradise

**Author's Note:**

> [rus](https://ficbook.net/readfic/6621123)

Her name is Ayumi.

She is small, just as every girl in Osamu’s class, and almost weightless — he is sure that he can lift her up for a minute or two without any complications.

Not that he has fantasized about that. That would be stupid.

Bright eyes that pierce with intelligence, lovely smile that brings charming dimples to her cheeks, well-built little figure — everything is beautiful about her. But the most amazing thing about Ayumi is her long hair which she braids every day in some new, more and more wonderful than previous, hairdo. Today, for example, she has braided hair near her face in a pigtails, tied them together on the back of her head, and left the rest to waver behind her back, and that looks on her marvellously. Though, one strand has stuck out out of braid; Atsumu’s hand rises to put it away. He and Ayumi share a look, and Atsumu puts his hand on her cheek, pulling her closer.

Osamu looks away, squinting, like if he doesn’t see the kiss, it won’t, maybe, happen. He opens his eyes: well, nope, this is his brother, this is his classmate which he very much likes, and they are kissing.

Goddamnit.

Osamu catches Atsumu’s glance, and he’s almost one hundred percent certain that he is smiling. And, what is more, not because he is happy he is kissing Ayumi, but because he is glad to screw over his brother. Osamu is sure that Atsumu doesn’t even know who Ayumi is.

He has never said that he likes her but his longing, always following her glances were, apparently, enough for his observant brother. He sticks out tongue, and Atsumu bursts out laughing right into kiss.

Osamu turns around and heads to the class. There’s nothing he can do here.

Isn’t it the lucky coincidence, he thinks: his brother kisses the girl of his dreams right then he’s gathered all his courage to finally confess to her. Like he knew. Like he didn’t want his brother to date someone. Like he was jealous.

What? That’s stupid.

*

They walk home in silence, the only sound is Atsumu humming some song. Osamu tells himself that this is the only reason why he can’t look away from his brother’s lips, and not that there’s Ayumi’s lip gloss on them, a little swollen from kisses; but he is too full of jealousy to convince himself.

He is too full of jealousy to own up to his actions.

He barely waits for them to come home, and follows Atsumu to their room, closing the door. Atsumu, with his shit-eating grin, starts talking, but Osamu doesn’t give him a chance to say something, roughly yanking him closer by the tie of the uniform.

He tastes of cherry. Probably, from the lip gloss.

Osamu sweeps his tongue on Atsumu’s lower lip, jealously gathering the remains of his kiss with Ayumi. This flavor doesn’t suit him. Atsumu should taste like hot summer of their childhood, vanilla ice cream, and blood of lips, always beaten in their fights. Osamu bites them till the metallic taste; a small whining sound leaves Atsumu and drowns in the kiss, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t break it. He even sticks out his tongue and touches Osamu’s; he tries not to shiver, and almost succeeds in that, but Atsumu still, of course, notices and smirks.

Osamu ends the kiss just to push his brother on the bed and climb on top of him.

“Asshole,” he grumbles.

“Moron,” Atsumu responds with pleased smile. Osamu hurries to bend and shut him up.

His lips still tastes of cherry a little, so he sweeps his tongue on his again. Now, he is more jealous of Ayumi, not his brother — but he will never admit that, not to Atsumu. Atsumu discontentedly — ‘cause licking off lip gloss is getting annoying, ‘Samu — bites Osamu’s tongue, and he tries not to scream just to not give Atsumu one more reason to be smug. He kisses him deeply, just because Atsumu was asking for it.

They lie like that — Osamu is on top, pressing Atsumu down on the bed — not for long, kissing hungrily, taking away from each other the role of the leading one, not staying the flown one, the defeated even for one second. Because they are like that — in life, and even at volleyball court, they don’t give each other a break.

They surrender simultaneously: Osamu sits straight and Atsumu turns his head to the side. Everything freezes for one long second, just their chests heave, desperately trying to gather all that air that they neglected kissing. But this second passes, because Osamu, feeling especially fond, bends and starts kissing his brother’s neck, biting it a little. At first, Atsumu doesn’t respond, just bites his cheek trying not to smile, but he eventually fails to stop himself and starts laughing loudly.

“‘Samu, stop, it tickles,” he manages to say, pushing his brother off himself.

Osamu falls on the floor and hears yet another burst of laughter. Thinking that his brother’s antics is enough for today, he grabs a pillow from the upper berth and starts beating up Atsumu with it in frenzy.

He just starts laughing more.

*

They talk about it only at night.

“Hey, Osamu,” the voice is almost inaudible even in nightly silence.

Osamu grumbles something in response. He is almost asleep, and honestly? Atsumu may go to hell, sleep is more important.

“You won’t date Ayumi, right?” Atsumu asks just as quietly.

Osamu sighs heavily, “Yeah, I won’t leave you behind. If you let me sleep.”

“Okay,” Atsumu says, and Osamu is certain that he hears smile in his voice. He smiles a little too.

Dammit, ‘Tsumu.


End file.
